


After Hours

by IloveErenYeager



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, Armin and Jean friendship, Drug Use, Eren plays lacrosse now bc I said, Fluff and Angst, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Jean Kirstein and Eren Yeager Fight, M/M, POV Armin Arlert, Recreational Drug Use, forced to work together, implied refer, maybe smut idk, mean eren, need Armin, sasha and Connie friendship, tutor Armin
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-14 11:54:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 17,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29418234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IloveErenYeager/pseuds/IloveErenYeager
Summary: Armin hasn’t talked to Eren in years- not since him and Mikasa decided to drop him before junior high. Now in their senior year, Armin is asked to tutor a struggling Eren in History. He really doesn’t want to- who would want to tutor their ex-friend? But college transcripts are important to him and he knows it could help him get into more if they see his willingness to help others. He hopes Eren will cut back on hating him enough to let him help.
Relationships: Armin Arlert/Eren Yeager
Comments: 53
Kudos: 77
Collections: Attack on Titan/Shingeki no Kyojin





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> TYSM ROCIO FOR GIVING ME THIS IDEA AND ENCOURAGING ME TO WRITE !!  
> I hope u guys enjoy this as much as I did while writing :))

I’m late. I look down at my watch, hoping I’m not going to be as tardy as I thought. Cursing under my breath I run faster, my feet slapping against the tile floor. Class starts in five minutes. It takes me on average three to make it upstairs and down the hall to my class. If I make a stop by my locker to grab my books that’ll add an extra six minutes I don’t have.  _ Guess I’ll be going without them _ I say to myself, barely yelling out a rushed ‘sorry’ as I bump into someone on the stairs. 

By the time I reach the doorway of room 317, I’m out of breath and trying to keep that fact under wraps as I make my way towards a desk. The front row is usually my favorite place to sit, I have access to hearing the teacher better  _ and  _ there’s a large window near it I can look out once I finish my work.  _ But,  _ since I barely made it on time today I’ll have to sit in the very back. Swallowing my disappointment, I make my way to the last row, noticing it’s less crowded than the front of the class. 

I choose the desk farthest to the right, hoping I’ll get a glimpse out the window. I set my stuff down with a sigh and pull out the most recent book I’m reading. Silence of the lambs was recommended to me by my English teacher and after speculating on if I should read it for a week or two, I gave in and bought myself a copy. So far it’s good, if not a little confusing (not that I’d tell anyone). The bell gave a shrill cry as I flipped through the book, trying to find the last place I left off. Once I did I realized I was only on chapter _two._ I prided myself in how fast I could read and retain information but clearly this was harder to read than I thought, which is strange because the diction isn’t that complicated. Forcing myself to focus and try to read through the chapter I felt my surroundings disappear around me. It was hard to imagine why others didn’t like reading. It was the perfect way to escape reality, to finally find some peace elsewhere. I’m finally to the part where Clarice meets Dr. Frederick when a voice cuts through my reading.

“Move,” he sounds agitated, like whoever he’s speaking to is wasting his time. His voice is deeper than I’d expected to hear from a classroom of students but I pay him no mind, trying to find the sentence I was on. 

“I said  _ move, _ ” if he sounded irritated before, he sounds pissed now. I pity whoever he’s talking to. 

“I’m talking to  _ you  _ Armin,” 

I look up so quickly I feel my neck jolt as I take in the person in front of me. Without even looking at his face I know who it is from the tall frame. He holds the strap of his backpack tightly in his fist, knuckles nearly white. The black hair framing his face brings out his flat green eyes and grim expression. I can feel myself wanting to laugh right there. Because only  _ I  _ would have this much bad luck in one day. Standing in front of is none other than Eren Yeager.

-

Eren has always been isolated. I remember in first grade where he wouldn’t utter a word to anyone until the second week of school, when he became more familiar with others. Him and I had been somewhat close throughout our elementary school years. Mikasa was never too far away from him so naturally I became her friend as well. We’d been a fun trio, practically inseparable until fifth grade, when Mikasa and Eren decided I wasn’t someone they’d want to be friends with as soon as we started new school lives in junior high. Naturally, I’d been heartbroken, my first friends ever had dumped me for each other. I’d gotten over it during the summer and realized we’d probably never see each other anyways, so the past was in the past. Until I walked into my home room the first day of school and saw the both of them sitting next to each other. Luckily, that was the only class we had together so it was easy to ignore them. 

It was that year that I made new friends with Jean. At first I’d been skeptical. Jean was loud and obnoxious at times, which didn’t go well with someone like me who preferred quiet. It wasn’t until he constantly stood up for me against numerous bullies that I felt myself wanting to return the friendship. We met Sasha and Connie as we went through junior high together, and eventually once we  _ finally  _ reached high school, we decided to stay friends no matter what. From what I know, Erens only friend now and on and off girlfriend is Mikasa. It didn’t surprise me. Was I a little disappointed we weren’t friends anymore? I mean,  _ maybe,  _ but it didn’t matter because there was nothing I could do about it. In all honesty, I was surprised he even managed to remember my name. The last time I spoke to him was seventh grade when I had managed to puke in front of the whole class after receiving a C- on one of my quizzes. It hadn’t been a big deal, in fact I wasn’t even that upset about the grade. My dad had just passed away and I was stuck caring for my grandpa who wasn’t doing very well in regards to health. After our teacher had seen my puke all over the floor, he’d frantically told me to go to the nurse and asked Eren to take me. If I hadn’t already thrown up I probably would’ve done it then. He hadn’t complained though, only silently slinging my arm over his shoulder and helping me to the office. I most likely had a fever then because even now the memory of it all was extremely hazy and I barely remembered him speaking at all. He’d most likely asked me something mundane like how I was doing, which was stupid because I’d  _ just  _ puked everywhere. After that, I’d never spoken to him again.

When I figured out he was attending the same high school as me I nearly screamed in frustration. I mean, how was it that him and Mikasa followed me to  _ every  _ school I went to? We lived in a large town, there were plenty of options. Last I heard, Mikasa's parents had gotten wealthier over the years, meaning she could go to those prestigious schools. Obviously she didn’t, choosing to go to the same place Eren was which was unfortunate for me. 

Once high school started it was like he was a completely different person. Gone was the shy kid barely anyone knew. Now, there wasn’t one person who hadn’t heard of Eren. He was extremely popular, but for the wrong reasons. He was known as the problem student according to his teachers. He often got detention for disrespecting teachers and failing classes. Because he was so popular it also displayed the very frequent and dramatic ‘breakups’ him and Mikasa went through. According to him they weren’t breakups because they were never dating. I never cared enough to ask him directly, trying my best to steer clear of him. It obviously wasn’t working because here he stood in front of me, growing more pissed as the seconds wore on.

“What?” I maneuver to squeak out, anxiously waiting for his answer.

“This is my seat. Move,” he placed his palms on the desk, leaning forwards on them to get closer to my face. His face was inches from mine, practically a breadth away. His green eyes shone as they waited for me to react. 

“We don’t have assigned seats in this class,” I lamely responded, trying not to breathe too fast. I could only watch silently as he swept his arm across the surface of the desk. My book hit the floor with a large slap, grabbing the attention of a few students. 

“I sit in this seat. Every. Day.” He tapped his pointer finger along with his words, a shallow thud sounding with it. “I sit in this seat everyday and you sit in the front, daydreaming while looking outside the window like some _ princess _ ,” he snaps, leaning closer, so close our noses almost brush against each other. 

“I-” the words get stuck in my throat as he grabs the collar of my shirt, bringing me close enough that our eyes are leveled and I’m not stuck looking up at him like an idiot. 

“You’re pretty smart, right Armin? I thought you of all people would get the fucking hint.” I reach a hand up, wrapping it around his wrist. He’s grasping me so tightly I can feel myself trying harder to breathe. I grip his wrist tightly, willing him to at least loosen his hold on me. When he leans towards me I automatically lean back but realize I’m not able to go as far as I’d like because the back of my shirt is practically cutting my circulation off. He moves towards the side of my head, stopping at my ear. 

“ _ Get out- _ ”

“Mr. Yeager release Mr. Arlert  _ now, _ ” never in my  _ life  _ have I been so happy to hear my teachers voice and practically sag in relief as Eren lets me go reluctantly. Before either of us can respond, he speaks again.

“I want to see both of you after class,” he reaches his desk and pulls his chair out, sitting unceremoniously on it. “There’s a nice desk right near mine you can sit at Mr. Yeager,” smiling as he points to the wooden desk and chair near his, I watch as Eren’s face turns into a sour expression. He doesn’t even spare me a glance as he makes his way to his seat, slouching in it and pulling his hoodie over his head. 

I’m anxious all class, biting the tip of my pencil while wondering what punishment I have in store for me. Does he think  _ I  _ started it? I didn’t- I wouldn’t start  _ anything  _ with Eren, conflict or not. It wasn’t like we were fighting right? We weren’t. I’m pretty sure. As the bell rings, signaling the end of class, I grab my book off the floor. I was too anxious to move a muscle all class period and can feel myself wanting to throw up as I make my way to the front of the room. 

“Mr. Yeager hood  _ off,” _

Grumbling but complying, Eren pulled it off and stood up from his desk. After throwing his backpack over his shoulder he makes his way toward the door where I can see Mikasa waiting. We make eye contact and she seems slightly surprised to see me, as if we haven’t been going to school together our whole lives. 

“Mr. Yeager come back here,” 

“For  _ what? _ ” He answered, turning around as he rolled his eyes. 

“It’s no secret you’re failing my class. I understand History can be a hard subject, what with all the dates and such-”

“ _ Your point? _ ” 

“Armin excels in my class, he’s an amazing student and I’d like for him to tutor you-”

“ _ What? _ ” Eren and I say in usion, barely registering it. I’ve always admired Mr. Smith. He’s smart, witty and excellent at teaching. But what he’s suggesting right now is simply ludicrous. 

“Um- Mr. Smith- sir, I don’t have time to tutor anyone, especially with finals and college applications and-”

“Yes, I know you’re probably very busy academically-” I don’t want to know why he felt the need to add the ‘academically’ part, “but Eren is also a senior and if he can’t get this class grade up he won’t graduate.”

“I’m  _ right  _ here, stop talking about me in third person,” Eren says, barely managing to conceal his scoff. 

“It’ll also look very good on transcripts if you tutor another student and help him pass,” what he was saying made a lot of sense, and while I do have good grades, colleges are always looking for something  _ extra _ in a potential student. 

“I don’t need a tutor okay? I can pass just fine without anyone’s help-”

“If you don’t take my offer of Armin tutoring you I won’t bother to give you the test to take,” Mr. Smith said nonchalantly.

“ _ What?  _ You can’t do that- isn’t that like- I don’t know, illegal ?”

“No it’s not. It’s perfectly fine if I don’t want to give a student who gives zero effort to get his grade up a test I know he won’t try for,” 

Eren says nothing, staring angrily at the whiteboard behind him. 

“Armin, what do you say?” Mr. Smith turns to me, waiting for my answer. I don’t want to have  _ anything  _ to do with Eren. I’d given up on trying to fix things a while ago and I don’t think I’d want to try again. In terms of my academic scores and records, I’m a perfectionist. I want everything to be perfect for colleges that might want to have me. If that meant working with Eren then….

“I’ll do it,” I mumble. Out of the corner of my eye I swear I see a shocked expression on Eren's face for a split moment, but it’s gone before I can really grasp it. Mr. Smith smiles at my answer, looking at Eren and silently asking him for his reply. 

“Whatever I’ll do it,” and with that he leaves the room, not even waiting for Mikasa to catch up. I look towards her, surprised to find she’s already staring at me. There’s a strange expression on her face, as if she’s slightly disappointed. It’s the face of someone who’s just lost something they cared for. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the Kudos and comments I appreciate it!!

“Absolutely not,” 

Jean’s pissed. That’s not surprising in any way, he’s always pissed about something no matter how big or small. It’s too sunny outside, he’s pissed because that means he can’t take the top down of the car. It’s not Wednesday or Friday, he’s pissed because those are the only days he  _ can  _ drive the car. He fails the test he didn’t study for, of course he’s pissed because he thought he was going to pass it anyways. I’ve learned to just go with it and stop being surprised or concerned when he gets in those particular moods. But now, as we sit at the lunch table, I realize this is a different type of irritation entirely. 

“It’s not up for debate, I have to do it,” I answer, unwrapping my sandwich.

“He gave you the choice right? He  _ asked  _ you if you wanted to do it,”

“Okay, yeah, he ‘asked’ but I couldn’t just say no to that,”

“Why not? No one would blame you if you did, you should’ve just said-”

I sigh loudly through my nose as I take a large bite out of my ham and cheese sandwich, hoping Jean gets the hint that I won’t be able to talk anytime soon.

“Hey losers,” Connie says as he sets his tray down on the table. Sasha does the same, moving noticeably slower than he does as she sits down, most likely due to the fries she’s shoving down her throat.

“Connie, tell Armin he can’t tutor Eren,” Connie turns to me, eyes wide as he sits down in between Jean and Sasha.

“I can’t believe this,” he breathes in awe. “I never thought I’d live to see the day  _ you,  _ Armin Arlert, got punished for something,” opening a fruit cup he smiles widely shaking his head while doing so. 

“So what did you do? Prank the teacher? Start a fire in the bathrooms?” Sasha giggles next to him at the possibility of me doing any of those things. I roll my eyes and set down my lunch.

“I’m not getting  _ punished,  _ I was asked to tutor him so that’s what I’m going to do,”

“No you’re not,” Jean insists, pointing a finger at me. “You’re going to get attached and get hurt just like last time,” 

I don’t say anything, instead opting to watch as Connie and Sasha go through their normal lunch routine. They push their trays together, lining them up perfectly. After trading various food items they lay out the ones they want most.

“I want the cake!” Sasha exclaims, already calling dibs on it.

“You got the cake yesterday, it's  _ my  _ turn,” Connie insists, swatting her hand away from it. 

“I let you copy off my math homework though-”

“And  _ I  _ let you copy off my social studies packet,” 

“Then how are we going to pick who gets it-?” 

Ever so slowly they turn to me, identical looks on their faces. I raise my hands up and shake my head.“Nope. I’m not going this again,”

“Why not?” Sasha asks, leaning her cheek against her hand and looking at me.

“Last time I picked the wrong person and you ignored me for three days I’m not doing this anymore, ask Jean,”

“Jean always picks himself!” Connie complains, throwing daggers at Jean who pays him no mind. 

“Just split in half,” I say exasperatedly.

“That’s not fair-!”

“What’s not fair?” We look up as Historia seats herself at the table. I nearly sigh in relief right there. If anyone other than Connie can manage Sasha, it’s her. She’s fairly new to our group- if you can even call it that. After meeting her on the bus during Junior year, I immediately wanted to be friends and invited her to our table. She fit in easily and we all loved her. She grew especially close to Sasha and I for whatever reason and we’ve been inseparable since. Being captain of the varsity cheer team, she's extremely popular. She’s also very personable as well, able to start a conversation with anyone. That’s probably one of the many reasons she and her girlfriend even started dating. I didn’t have anything against Ymir exactly, but she slightly reminded me of Eren with her snappy attitude and comebacks. 

“Connie won’t let me have the cake even though it’s my turn, so you have to pick for us,” she smiles as she says it, most likely knowing Historia will pick her.

“Give it to Connie,” Historia says, pulling her lunch box out of her bag. Sasha’s smile drops and she looks physically hurt as Connie lets out a loud whoop and places it on his tray.

“How could you-”

“Here,” Historia places a bento box wrapped in cloth in front of Sasha, watching as she warily opens it. Once she does she lets out a loud scream of joy, rushing to throw her arms around her neck.

“You’re a goddess,” she weeps. I lean forward, looking inside the box. To be honest I’m sort of jealous as I take in the sweet and savory food inside. 

“I know,” She replies, a smile and faint blush on her face. 

“No fair!” Connie protests, looking inside the lunch as well.

“Here comes the devil,” I hear Jean mutter. I follow his gaze to one of the double doors entering the lunch room. Walking inside the cafeteria is Mikasa. I don’t understand why he’d say such a thing about her, considering the fact he’d spent most of middle school trying to convince her to date him. As soon as I’m about to turn to tell him just that, Eren walks in behind her. It’s like the atmosphere in the room shifts slightly, tables quieting down, students turning to stare as he calmly walks through tables, making his way farther into the room. I feel a jolt of panic go through my body. I’ve never seen him in the lunchroom all of high school so what the hell was he doing here now? 

Slowly, the level of conversation rises again, echoing off the walls. Mikasa is talking to him about what, I have no idea. All I know is she’s going more frustrated and he’s not turning around to acknowledge her words. Despite me not being close to Mikasa anymore, it makes me irritated that he can just ignore her so casually. 

“Looks like a lovers quarrel,” Historia says cheerfully, turning around in her seat completely to get a better view.

“How is it a lovers quarrel if he’s not even reciprocating?” Jean asks, not bothering to hide his scoff. 

“Maybe we should move outside,” I suggest as nonchalantly as I can. After nearly being choked by him only three periods ago, I’m not exactly eager to see him. I turn my attention to my food that will remain uneaten due to my lack of appetite and start trying to pack it up. 

“We just got here,” Sasha complains. 

“I think he’s leaving anyways,” Connie adds, and I look to see Eren make his way towards the exit. The exit we’re literally three feet away from. Where’s Mikasa when you need her? Can’t she just force him to sit down somewhere long enough to where I can leave? I trail my eyes up his body slowly, hoping to be a little discreet at least. He’s still wearing the same white hoodie he’d been wearing this morning, but the hood is down this time. His hair is disheveled, like he’s just come back from running somewhere, which is strange because he’d walked through the door normally and not out of breath. Then again, not everyone is as out of shape as I am since I could barely run a lap in physical education without needing an inhaler. When I meet his eyes, I’m startled to find he’s already looking at me. He’s wearing a different expression from before, although I can’t exactly read it. There’s some sort of determination there? Which would confuse me even more if it weren't for the fact that he’s looking  _ right  _ at me. It’s like there’s a taut wire between us, so rigid one misstep could snap it in half. As far as I’m concerned, there’s no one else in the room. Everything else in the background is white noise, and I feel trapped as I’m unable to move my eyes away. My heart pounds so loudly I fear my head will explode as he makes his way towards the table. 

“Armin!” Jean hisses, snapping me out of whatever trance I was in. 

“Hi Eren,” Historia chirps, and to my horror I notice he’s reached our table. Instead of walking past it to leave like I’d hoped, he stopped near Historias' seat, giving her a small nod as she greeted him. Maybe if I pretend he’s not here, he won’t notice me? I look down at the table, inspecting the metal for any stains. Thankfully no one else has used this table all year, so it’s fairly clean after the janitors wipe it down. 

“Armin.” I can feel goosebumps under my sweater at the sound of Erens low drawl as he speaks to me. Is this real? Why am I reacting like this? I need to get a grip for god’s sake. He’s an ex-friend, obviously it’s  _ rational  _ for me to avoid him. So why am I acting like he’s a high school crush? 

“Y-yeah,” I reply, still keeping my eyes glued to the table. 

“Be at my place by six,” he doesn’t sound angry, but his voice sounds strained, as if he wants to say more maybe? 

“Like hell he will,” Jean says, aggravation clear as he says it. 

“I’m not talking to you,” Eren croons, and as I look up I can see a hint of a smirk barely noticeable on his face. 

Before Jean can respond, he’s walking off. I panic then, because how am I supposed to get to his house? I don’t even remember where he lives, and I have no car of my own.

“Wait! How am I supposed to get there?” I call after him. He doesn’t seem to hear me and continues towards the exit. 

“Bye!” Historia says, and I watch in irritation as he gives her a small wave before opening the double doors and leaving. So he  _ could  _ hear me. 

“Stupid bastard,” Jean mutters, packing his stuff as the bell rings. I sit in shock for a second, processing exactly what just happened. 

“Let’s go,” Jean taps my shoulder, already having cleared my trash for me. He hands me my bag as he turns towards the rest of the group.

“Remember to meet out front today,” As if we could forget. Today was Wednesday, meaning Jean got the car and was able to drive us home. Usually Historia and I were the only ones that rode the bus, sometimes Connie joined us as well, but for the most part everyone else walked home. We always stopped at Maria’s before going home, a diner that served the best shakes.

“And uh,” he scratches the back of his head and I notice the tips of his ears are pink. “Marco’s going to be joining us today so don’t act stupid, alright?”

“We never act stupid,” Sasha scoffs and Connie nods next to her, expression serious. 

“We’ll be on our best behavior,” Historia winks, wrapping her arms around their shoulders and steering them out the cafeteria. 

* * *

Stepping outside I practically sigh in relief. Jean stretches his arms above his head, groaning when he hears a cracking sound. The front of the school is already busy with students, which isn’t a surprise since our class is at the very top floor, making us the last ones out. Our last class is study hall which Jean uses to sleep and I use to read. The teacher is incredibly laid back and falls asleep normally as well.

“Hopefully they’re already there,” Jean says as we walk through the different crowds of people. When he  _ is _ able to drive us, we meet at the large oak tree near the front building. We’ve been doing this since Junior year and it’s probably the highlight of my week. Riding the bus isn’t so bad if you like crowded places, the air always feeling heavy with some sort of musk, and obnoxious kids that don’t know when to shut up. Luckily I have Historia to keep me sane (unless it’s a thursday because she has practice in the afternoon, which is incredibly dumb in  _ my _ opinion because every other day of the week she has it in the morning). 

“Is Marco meeting us there too?” I ask. We’ve all known of the crush Jean has had for a while, so it’s no surprise that he’s finally making a move. It only took him two months but at least he’s actually doing something about it now. 

“Yeah, he has Sasha in his last period so I told him to just walk with her,” he looks nervous as we near the tree, fiddling with his backpack straps and scratching his palms. 

“Hey,” I grab his arm, slowing us down. “You don’t have to be nervous alright? He likes you,” It was true. Jean rarely allowed us to be near Marco (he feared we’d embarrass him), but the moments they were together that I saw, I knew for a fact they should’ve been dating months ago. 

“He’s too good for me,” he mutters, running a hand through his hair. I fight the urge to roll my eyes right there. It’s not often he’s vulnerable with me despite us being the closest, but the thought of someone being too good for him was ridiculous. There’s no one more deserving of happiness than Jean. 

“That’s not true and you know it. Let’s try to have some fun,” I yank his arm and start leading us again. 

“I never thought  _ you’d  _ be the one to tell me to loosen up,” he snorts. I scowl at him as we step onto the grass. 

“You guys sure took your time,” Connie remarks as he swings himself back and forth, his hands gripping a tree branch tightly. 

“Get down from there,” I walk over quickly, worried he’ll slip and fall. Noticing my worry, he only grins and swings faster. I roll my eyes, looking for Sasha only to nearly scream in horror as I see her sitting one branch higher from Connie.

“Are you guys crazy?” I shriek, reaching my hands up as far as they can go, wondering if I’ll be able to reach her. 

“Get down from there!” 

“Make me,” Connie sticks his tongue out and Sasha laughs at my angry expression. 

“I’m going to tell Jean if you don’t get out of that tree at the count of three,”

“He’s with his boyfriend, don't bug him!” Sasha protests. 

“1…”

“You won’t,” Connie responds. 

“2…”

“Okay wait let me get down first at least!” Sasha tries her best to shimmy down without falling.

“3…”

They both yell excitedly, rushing to see who’ll get down first. 

“You’re lucky I didn’t tell Jean!” I call out after them, watching as they run around the trunk trying to tag each other. 

“Tell me what?” Jean looks at me expectedly, Marco at his side. 

“Ah, nothing,” I look to Marco and wave, receiving one back.

“Okay I’m here,” Historia runs towards us, breathing heavily once she finally reaches the grass. “I had to finalize a routine for cheer but I’m ready now,”

“We just got here too,” I tell her. 

“Okay, let’s go then,” Jean conveys, cupping his hands around his mouth to shout for Sasha and Connie. “We’re leaving, let's go!” 

“I call shotgun!” Sasha declares, running past us and into the lot. 

“You got it last time!” Connie runs after her and after a moment's hesitation we follow them, laughing the whole way. 

“Can you unlock the car?” Sasha asks, elbowing Connie who’s trying to reach for the passenger side handle as well.

“I hate to break it to you guys but that’s Marcos' seat,” he leads Marco to the door, pushing away the two of them single handedly and opening the door for him. 

“Aw no fair-”

“He’s your boyfriend- that’s special boyfriend privilege!” Connie accuses, pointing a finger at Jean's face as Historia and I make our way to the left side of the car. 

“Yeah that’s discriminative!” Sasha adds proudly. 

“My car my rules,” is his only answer as he steps into the driver's seat. 

I open the door for Historia, letting her slide in first before I join her. Sasha slips in from the right side, meeting her in the middle while Connie gets in after her. It’s tighter than usual since Connie or Sasha usually sit in the front, leaving only three in the back. Now that there’s four, there aren’t even enough seat belts to go around. 

“We can share,” Historia tells Sasha, stretching the belt as far as it can go before clicking it in place. 

“Turn on the radio,” Connie demands, reaching forwards to grab Marcos headrest as he tries to put it on himself. I slap his hand away and point to his seat.

“Put your seatbelt on!” 

“Okay dad,” he rolls his eyes and does it regardless, and only then does Jean turn on the music as we leave the school. Jean pushes a button in the front and we watch excitedly as the ceiling of the car pulls back with a whir. 

“Raise it up!” Sasha yells over the wind. I close my eyes, feeling the cool wind on my face, music filling my ears along with the sound of laughter from my friends. It makes me feel alive. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone is interested I'm also in the middle of writing a college AU Ymir/Historia fic! it's in my works section :))


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really excited about this chapter (??) which is strange bc I literally hate my writing akhkf but anyways, I hope you guys enjoy! Thank to everyone who leaves Kudos and comments, it makes my day :)

“Oh my god did you hear the news?” Historia’s sitting next to me, sipping her vanilla milkshake while texting at least three different people at once. I finish my sip of my strawberry milkshake before answering.

“What news?” 

“Okay so there was a party last weekend right-”

“That’s not news there’s always a party on the weekends,” I tell her, twirling my straw through my thick drink. 

“If you would let me  _ finish, _ ” she sighs, turning in the leather booth to face me fully. I can hear Connie laugh at something loudly before she begins speaking again. “So basically, there was a party at Erens right? And someone in my art class told me that someone in my cheer team saw someone who knew someone else that saw Eren cheating on Mikasa and  _ that’s  _ what she was yelling at him about today during lunch.” I blink at her slowly, trying to process the sentence that just left her mouth. I’m not sure why she feels the need to tell me anything about Eren, and I’m not sure I want to know her reasoning behind it anyways. 

“Doesn’t he always cheat?” rumors were always spread around that particular people were cheating so it wasn’t a surprise, but recently those rumors had been about Eren himself. They’d started a month or so ago, once Mikasa and him had started  _ really  _ fighting. I don’t know why it disappointed me when I heard about it, especially if there’s no evidence for it. 

“Ymir says he’s never done it before, but this past time she thinks he might’ve done it for real-”

“Ymir?” I ask, setting down my straw and raising an eyebrow at her. Historia and Ymir had been a couple for a while now, and they were pretty public. Historias' feed was mainly pictures of the two of them on dates and such. Ymir didn’t often post, Historia says it’s because she’s a private person, which I very much doubt because I’ve been added to a few of her private stories on snap and have most definitely seen things I wish I hadn’t. I have never heard one thing about Ymir and Eren even knowing each other outside of the obvious popularity they have- both bad. She’s known for getting in trouble too often. Even now, she would have been able to join us just like any other week but she’d ended up getting in trouble with the local police and had probation. Obviously, we’re all curious as to what she did to get the harsh punishment. We live in a small town, meaning the authorities can’t really do much and don’t often want to, especially if they’ve known them since they were born. Everytime we bring it up, Historia gets this sort of guilty look and mutters something along the lines of ‘oh I don’t know, she didn’t share it with me,’ which is an obvious lie because I’ve never seen a relationship as honest as theirs. 

“Yeah they hang out in detention together and she sells him stuff,”

I give her a blank look. I understand the detention together situation but selling? Like merch or what? 

“Y’know like,” she lifts her fingers to her lips and then moves them away, blowing imaginary smoke into the air.  _ Oh-  _ I flush, embarrassment flooding through my body. I’m an idiot, obviously she meant weed and such. I never would have guessed Eren of all people would take either of those things but I didn’t exactly know him as well as I used to. My father used to be obsessed with finding a perfect dealer for things like that. I want to laugh at the thought of Ymir selling my dad stuff. I curse myself for thinking about him, turning my attention back to my shake, dunking the candied strawberry into it. When he’d died six years ago I hadn’t cried, in fact I’d felt relieved which still leaves me guilty. I guess it was to be expected, I didn’t have a good relationship with him. Or any relationship really. At the time, my grandfather hadn’t been living with me. His health had been fine, enough so that he was able to take care of himself without needing us to check in with him too frequently. By ‘us’ I meant me. My dad had a job at a construction site down the street. As soon as he came home he wanted a drink, and he kept wanting a drink until he physically couldn’t stay awake to absorb anymore. It was difficult for me to learn how to make meals for myself without any examples or help, but it was even more difficult for me to deal with my father when he was home. 

“Armin?” 

“Huh?”

“Are you listening?” Historia pulls her phone out, typing fast at a message that comes on her screen. 

“Sorry what did you say?”

“I was telling you about the video I posted of all of us. Do you want me to send it to you?” What video? How long have I been zoned out? It’s not unusual for us to take pictures or videos while hanging out, most of the time we take  _ too  _ many. 

“Oh, yeah sure,” I take my phone out and open Instagram, waiting for her username to appear. I look through stories while I wait. Jean's profile picture has an ambre circle around it, indicating he’s posted something. None of us often posted other than Historia. She has over two thousand followers and always posted content for them. I click on his story and fight the urge to make fun of him right here. He’s posted a picture of his and Marcos milkshakes and put a heart sticker near the bottom, as if no one will notice. It’s not that I think it’s cringey or stupid, but Jean had always sworn he’d never be the type of guy to post pictures relating to his girlfriends or boyfriends. I look up and see him tilt his head down for Marco to speak into, a smile on his face. Give me a break. If their relationship turns out anything like Historias and Ymirs, we’re all going to be in trouble. Despite the slight jealousy I feel towards them, I really am happy for Jean. 

My phone dings as Historias video finally gets sent to me and I swipe to the left, opening my messages. It begins with Connie and Sasha talking as they dip fries into their shakes. Historia moves the camera to capture Jean's slight look of disgust as he watches them before he turns back to whatever Marco is saying, smiling widely again. The sun is going down so it gives everyone a slight orangish glow before she finally catches me in the snap as well.

“Really?” I groan, watching as she captures me sipping my drink while scrolling on my phone. “Did you really have to add me in the video too? I’m not even doing anything,”

“I got your side profile and everything! You look good,” I roll my eyes, exiting the chat and turning my phone facedown on the table. 

“Where did you post it?” 

“Instagram and snap, why?” I sigh and hold my head into my hands. It’s probably been up for ten minutes now, meaning at least half of her followers have already seen it. Next time, I’ll make sure to be attentive when she pulls out her phone, which will be pretty hard since there isn’t a time where it's  _ not  _ out. 

I look out the window, watching as more cars pile into the parking lot. It’s getting late, nearly five-thirty already which is when it’s busiest. Thankfully, none of us live very far from here so Jean will be able to drop us off quickly before curfew. Not that I have one- my grandpa is pretty trusting and knows I can take care of myself. Sasha, however, has a curfew of six- thirty on school nights because her parents worry about her constantly. She’s an only child by birth- her little sister was adopted a few years ago- so it’s only natural for them to monitor how long she stays out. She can usually get away with going home at seven if Connie is with her (when is he  _ not _ ), because they trust him. I’m not sure  _ how  _ because I’ve seen him do some extremely stupid things, but I guess it has to do with the fact that they’ve been friends since childhood. 

I focus my attention back to the people walking towards the diner, trying to count how many there are as fast as I can. I’m barely at eight when a black sleek sports car drives down the lanes, probably looking for a free spot. Good luck with that. Since it’s just a small diner, there aren’t many spots painted, so once there isn’t anymore parking you’ll have to come back the next day. They turn sharply, almost running over a couple crossing the street as they make their way to the sidewalk, and manage to park surprisingly close to the front doors. I didn’t even know there was a spot this close- I squint, moving closer to the glass, realizing it’s a handicap parking space, the blue sign taller than normal in my opinion. Isn’t there supposed to be a handicap sign on your license plate? I vaguely remember my grandpa having a lanyard hanging in the car  _ and  _ the symbol on his license plate when he was still able to drive. The driver side opens quickly, and I peer through the window, wondering who it could be-

“Ow!” My hand meets my cheek as I feel a burning sensation. The table stares back at me, everyone hiding grins, other than Sasha who’s smiling at me openly, most likely the culprit behind the fry that hit my face. 

“We’ve been calling you for the past five minutes,” Connie speaks through a mouthful of fresh fries they must have ordered while I was busy looking outside. 

“Sorry, what were you saying?” Jean rolls his eyes and passes me the basket of fries. 

“We were thinking about catching a movie,” 

“Isn’t it too late?” I grab a small handful, blowing into my palm before nibbling on one. 

“Sasha can stay out as long as big brother Connie is out,” Connie wraps an arm around her shoulders, talking loudly. 

“You’re only older by two months,” Sasha whines, pushing his arm off. “And stop calling yourself that, it’s weird,”

“Is not,”

“Is to,”

“Is not-”

“Have you looked at times yet?” I question Jean, ignoring the bickering. 

“Yeah, there’s a space movie Marco wants to see and it premieres at six thirty so we could totally make it if we left now,” 

I think it over. I personally have no problem with staying up late on a school night, if you can call it late, but I’m not sure if Sasha’s parents will like the idea too much.

“I texted Ymir and she said she’d come,” Historia tells us excitedly, grabbing a few fries. I grab my phone, knowing I’ll have to call my grandpa to let him know first. I’m about to click the call button when I notice how silent the rest of the group is. Usually when a phone call is taking place, Connie or Jean will scream inappropriate things while Sasha and Historia giggle. I lift my head up, following their gazes and nearly cry out. Standing at the foot of our table once again, is Eren. He holds his backpack over his shoulder and faces us, and for once he doesn’t look too angry. He looks straight at me, as if I’m sitting at this table alone. With his attention zeroed in on me, I get the same feeling I did earlier today. It’s as if slowly everyone else disappears, and I can’t find it in myself to look away. 

“What the hell are you doing here?” Jean speaks first, snapping me out of it. Eren doesn’t answer, and if he’s still looking at me I don’t know because I’ve turned my attention to the empty straw wrapper in front of me. 

“You play golf?” Sasha asks, pointing at the handle peeking out of his bag. Connie leans forward, moving his head to see it.

“Our school has a golf team?” 

“No it doesn’t,” Historia answers, turning her gaze to it as well. It doesn’t look like a golf club, the open end of the hollow shaft is covered with thick black tape and a rubber cap, contrasting with the white. 

“If we don’t then why does he have a golf stick?” Sasha claims, giving Historia a look that says  _ he obviously plays golf if he has a golf club in his bag.  _

“Yeah, and why is he wearing shorts then?” Connie adds. I sneak my eyes up from the table, noticing how his shorts meet just above his knee. Gone is the hoodie he’s worn all day and instead a black fitted shirt hangs off him, hinting at the toned body underneath. I look away, feeling my face getting hot.

“If we had a golf team  _ I  _ would know, I’m the cheer teams captain-”

“Just ‘cause you're the captain doesn’t mean you know everything,” Sasha counters, sticking her tongue out for good measure.

“Five bucks says it’s  _ not  _ a golf club!”

“Fine!” 

“Did you hear me, asshole?” Jean looks ready to stand up, which wouldn’t get him far considering he’s sandwiched between Marco and Connie, who has Sasha on his other side. How the four managed to fit into one booth will always amaze me. 

“I’m not here for you,” is the dry response Jean gets, practically sending him flying across the table.

“Can you sit down?” I hiss, tugging on his sleeve. He shakes off my grip, shoving Connie's shoulder.

“Hey, what’s the big deal?”

“Move, so I can get up and show this-” Marco grabs him by the shoulders and pushes him back onto the booth. 

“Don’t even pay attention to him,” I hear him mutter and Jean gripes quietly. 

“Who  _ are  _ you here for then?” I whip my head to Historia, fighting the urge to strangle her. The tone she’s using is extremely sweet and almost patronizing. From the sly smile she has on her face I can tell she’s doing it on purpose as she leans her hand under her chin, batting her eyelashes. She looks at me and winks, then turns her gaze back to Eren. God. I want to bash my head into the table as I feel my cheeks get thermonuclear. 

“It’s six,” his voice is deep, nearly sending vibrations through the air as he speaks. “I told you we were going to meet at six for tutoring,” Why is he only speaking to me? Why is he only addressing  _ me?  _ He didn’t even want me to tutor him earlier so why is he so eager to do it now? Historia kicks me under the table, signaling I need to respond to him. 

“Y-yeah you did, sorry,” I clear my throat, cursing myself for sounding so idiotic. Sorry? Why am I apologizing? I haven’t done anything wrong. Right? Unless I have and my brain subconsciously knows that, therefore  _ making  _ me apologize without me even realizing it because it’s the right thing to do-

“Well I guess we can catch a movie with you guys later,” Historia shrugs, sliding out of the booth so I can leave. 

“Armin, stay seated- everyone, stay seated no one is going anywhere!” Jean shouts, slapping his hands on the table. 

“You’re being pretty loud man,” Connie warns, eyes darting away from the eyes watching our table. 

“I don’t give a fuck-  _ no one  _ is going anywhere except you!” he stands up again and reaches across the table to point a finger in Erens face.

“Wait he can’t leave yet! Tell Historia you play golf!” Sasha cries out, waving frantically in Historias direction. 

“Sit down!” I groan, trying to help Marco as he holds onto Jean's arm. 

“Everyone shut up!” we go silent as Marco raises his voice, turning to him with wide eyes. “Armin just go and we’ll watch a movie another time,” he suggests. Jean immediately shakes his head, opening his mouth to most likely shout again, but something in the way Marco looks at him makes him shut his mouth and look at his lap with a scowl. 

I grab my bag with shaky fingers and shove my phone in my pocket as I walk out of the booth. Standing side by side with Eren is intimidating, and not just because he’s almost a foot taller than me. It’s like I can feel him without even physically doing so. It doesn’t make any sense to me but that’s the only way I can describe it.

“You guys have fun!” Historia waves as we start walking towards the doors, my stomach feeling more queasy with each step we take.

Once we step outside, the loud chatter gone, I finally realize I’m actually  _ alone  _ with him. I follow him through the parking lot, wondering what kind of car he has. Is it expensive? I vaguely remember his family owning a lot of money when we were younger but who knows if that’s still his lifestyle today. We make our way to the front of the lot, near the windows. That’s strange. How long had he been waiting then? Had he been watching us this whole time? I doubt it, mainly because he probably doesn’t care that much, but I can’t think of any other way he’d be able to park so close. When he stops at a particular expensive and fast and  _ black  _ car I nearly trip over my own feet. It was him- he’s the one who had driven in here like a manic and parked in the handicap. He reaches the drivers side, not even waiting for me to open the passenger door before he sits down. 

“You can’t park here,” I tell him, still in shock that he would go as far as taking the place of someone who might actually need it. I click my seatbelt on and place my bag at my feet as I wait for his response. 

“Why not?” he snorts, pulling his door closed after him and starting the car. 

“Um, because you’re not  _ handicapped? _ ” I tell him, like it’s the most obvious thing- because it  _ is.  _

“So? I needed to get in here quickly,” he throws his bag over his shoulder and onto one of the backseats as he checks his mirrors. 

“Yeah but what if someone  _ actually  _ needed it? You took their chance to get-” he sighs loudly, reversing the car and cutting me off. Gone is the nervousness I felt earlier. In fact, I’m feeling quite irritated. Annoyed, if you will. 

“You’re pretty selfish you know-”

“Oh, so now you want to talk to me?” I open my mouth and close it, a million replies running through my head. “Yeah, didn’t think so,”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“Nothing, just that you didn’t even want to look at me, but you let your boyfriend scream at me the whole time I was there,” 

“My- what?” I stare at him open mouthed as he turns down a street, his hands gripping the wheel so tightly that his knuckles are white. 

“Your boyfriend? The guy you’ve been with every single day since middle school?” 

That’s an exaggeration. Well, sort of. Jean had been my very first friend in middle school and the first to help me come out of my shell a little more. Believe it or not I was more shy and incapable of talking to anyone more than I am now. He was the first one to really understand me and try to help me instead of putting me down. He learned to know everything about me, my family struggles, insecurities, etc. We got close very quickly. But there was nothing romantic about it, there still isn't’. He’s my best friend, plain and simple. 

“Jean’s not my boyfriend,” I laugh and shake my head. 

“Yeah, sure,”

“He’s  _ not _ -”

“If he isn’t then why are you getting so defensive about it-?”

“This has nothing to do with tutoring,” I blurt, feeling myself growing angrier evey time he opens his stupid mouth. He laughs, stopping at a red light and turning up the radio. It’s awful music, the bass practically shaking the car and I can feel my headache growing. My phone vibrates in my pocket, most likely Jean or Historia asking a million questions but I ignore it. He drives us through a neighborhood with large houses and I wonder if he lives in one. My question is answered as we stop before a white house at least three times bigger than mine. He takes the keys out, stopping the engine and steps onto his driveway. He doesn’t wait for me as he grabs his bag and heads towards the house. There’s steps-  _ steps-  _ leading up to the red door. The porch (is this a porch??) is wide, wrapping around the house and possibly leading into the backyard. I look around it, taking in the benches and small tables with magazines on them. I hear the door open and move to follow Eren when I see a figure out of the corner of my eye. 

Leaning against the railing is a tall man, blond hair pulled back from his face as he takes a drag from his cigar. His glasses look a little too small for his face in my opinion, but I don’t say it outloud. Should I say something? I love common courtesy and often go out of my way to show it to others, but this guy is a complete stranger. Is he related to Eren? I doubt it, they look nothing alike. I decide not to speak to him and make my way inside. I close the door behind me and stare in awe as I stand in the foyer. It’s large and pristine, as pretty as outside of the house, with a gleaming chandelier hanging just above the door frame, illuminating the room. The staircase is also white, the banister curling as I walk farther up. Luckily there’s a room with an ‘E’ painted in black on the door, helping me realize where Eren is. The door is cracked, not opened widely enough for me to see inside and I wonder if I should knock first. He probably won’t care if I just walk in right? I lean forward, pressing my hand on it gently and poke my head in. It’s messy, his bed sheets hanging off the bed and clothes littering the floor. He has a desk on one side of the room and as for the other- 

_ Oh my god-  _ that’s all I can think as I see him. His body isn’t facing me, giving me a full view of his powerful form as he shrugs his old shirt off. If I thought that black tee hinted at what was underneath I was  _ so  _ wrong- no shirt could prepare me for the body I’m seeing. He lifts a new one over his head- it’s white- the muscles in his back rippling as he does so. I finally come to my senses- realizing I’m literally watching him  _ change  _ for crying out loud and let out a muffled “oh my god” before slamming the door behind me.

This cannot be happening. I’m not going to allow myself to be attracted to  _ Eren  _ of all people. I groan loudly, banging my head against the wall. I try to ignore the tiny voice in the back of my head that’s telling me I already have.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I woke up this morning and was like "I need to finish this chapter" and then made myself three cups of coffee and wrote it in one sitting LMAOO so if this sucks, it's the caffeines fault. tysm for all the comments and Kudos they make me happy and I'm so glad you guys are enjoying this:))

One time in sophomore year, Connie got the idea to throw a party. His parents were pretty laid back (they still are), but regardless he decided to wait until they left town for a business trip. None of us were particularly popular back then- I wouldn’t even call us popular now- but he managed to get nearly half the school to fit in his house. I’m not into drinking, any memory with alcohol is usually shrouded with memories of my father, but I had a few drinks. Connie and Jean had  _ many _ , and by the end of the night they’d somehow stripped and decided to play tag around the house. Point is, I’ve seen naked guys other than myself before, granted Jean and Connie can’t necessarily be put in the same category as ‘guys’ because I see them as close friends, but it’s not something I’m unfamiliar with. So  _ why  _ am I so freaked out right now over seeing Eren’s bareback? He wasn’t even fully unclothed- so the fact that I’m standing outside his door on the verge of an asthma attack is poor on my part. I take a deep breath and grasp the knob, the cool metal shocking my skin. I turn it slowly until I can feel the mechanism inside click, and then brace myself as I swing it open.

Sitting on his bed, his attention solely on the TV, Eren doesn’t even notice as I slip back in, moving to close the door behind me. The volume is loud and the sound of cheering and whistles fills the room. It’s some sort of sport, each team has ten players on the field. I stand and watch as a player in a navy blue jersey stops between two opponents cornering them and after a moment's hesitation, gets ready to throw a pass. They move their body so their chest and feet are facing to the side, feet pointing to the player not too far that will receive the pass. They raise their hand to their chest while keeping the stick parallel to the ground, their left hand keeping a steady hold on the bottom of the stick as the force of their right hand propels it forward. I hold my breath as the ball sores through the air and over the head of players and ends in the basket of their teammate. This must be the sport Eren plays, his stick is almost identical to the one on the TV. 

“Don’t close it all the way,” Erens voice startles me as I remove my eyes from the sport. 

“Huh?” 

“The door,” his voice sounds strange, almost as if it’s strained but he clears it before speaking again. “Don’t close it all the way,”

“Oh,” I meekly reply, cracking the door open enough that you can see a clear view of the hallway. I look around the room, wondering where I’m supposed to sit. I reach for my bag over my shoulder and come back empty handed. Crap. Did I leave it in the car? How am I supposed to teach him anything if my stuff isn't here? He has to have at least  _ some  _ school books here right? I walk towards the desk and pull out the chair underneath it. I wait for Eren to say something, to tell me I can’t sit there or to make fun of the way I breathe but he doesn’t say anything. I’m guessing he’s still watching the TV as I sit down. There’s loose leaf papers all over the desk, things buried underneath it. I sigh quietly as I start carefully moving papers around, trying to find the history book for this quarter. I don’t even know if he actually  _ has  _ the book but looking for it is better than sitting in front of the TV. 

“Yes!” Eren practically shouts and I can slowly feel my irritation growing. He’s the one who needs help with school-  _ I’m  _ not the one failing and yet here I am, having to move  _ his  _ stuff around just so I can try and figure out what to start with.

“Can you turn that off?” I snap, the chair swinging me around as I turn to him. He keeps his eyes glued to the screen, leaning forward as he watches the next play. “Eren,” he doesn’t reply, seemingly in his own world. I spot the remote on the corner of his nightstand and quickly scoot the chair over to grab it. This remote has way more buttons than the one I have at home but I quickly find the power off button and click it. 

“Hey!”

“I didn’t come here to watch soccer or whatever-”

“That’s lacrosse, how do you get those two mixed up?” I flush. I’ve never been interested in sports, it seemed like a lot of work and a waste of time so it’s not like I memorized every different one. Jean played football all throughout middle school and if I learned one thing from it, it was that I would never play because of his constant complaining about his coach, and teammates, and plays and practically anything and everything to do with it. 

“We need to focus on history right now,” he groans and throws himself backwards on his mattress as I roll my eyes and turn back to the desk. There’s no way I’m going to find anything on here by removing his junk one by one. I sweep my hand across the surface hard enough that only the lightest things will fall off. Once all the papers and trash have fallen on the floor I work on at least trying to organize some of the contents just lying around. I pick up the empty pencil holder and set it towards the back so it’s touching the wall and fill it up with the few pens and markers I find. 

“What are you doing?” His voice is closer now, and I don’t have to turn around to know he’s probably sitting up again. 

“Cleaning your desk,” I answer dryly. 

“Why?” 

“Because it’s messy and I can’t find anything,” I place the stapler next to the cup holder and grab the stack of books I made. I look through the titles praying to whoever is listening that he has the book we need. There’s a science book that looks fairly new, and a mathematics book, but I’m going down the pile and there doesn’t seem to be a history one. I guess I’ll have to go down to the car and get my bag, but he should have one regardless. I’m about to give up when I spot a light orange cover tucked between a social studies folder and a sports magazine. I hold my breath as I slide it out, hoping I’m not mistaken and it actually is what we need. I almost let out a shout of joy when I see the familiar text printed on the front. 

“There’s only one chair so you’ll need to get another,” I tell him, not looking up from the textbook as I flip through. We’re only on lesson 30 this week but I’m not sure if Mr. Smith would want me to teach him an earlier lesson for context, or just try to explain as best as I can with what this week is about. I’m still mulling over it as my phone lets out a loud ring from my back pocket. I know who it is before I answer.

“Do you want me to pick you up?” 

“I’m fine, Jean,” I sigh, deciding I’ll just go with this week's lesson just in case. 

“Just send me the address and I can be right there-” he protests.

“I don’t need you to get me, okay? I haven’t even gotten started on the material for today,” I trail off, hoping it’s even context for him to understand I can’t leave yet. 

“I don’t like this. You don’t have to do it- Sasha! Close the window it’s cold damnit-!” There’s a sort of static and I can hear some shouting. I smile to myself. I was just with them only less than an hour ago but I already miss them. I jump as a loud thud nearly scares the shit out of me. I stare at the chair that’s been practically thrown next to me and keep staring as a very pissed off Eren sits down. What the hell’s his problem? It can’t be my fault, I’ve barely spoken to him all evening minus asking him to get another chair. 

“I’ll call u back,” 

“Do  _ not  _ hang up Armin, or I swear to Go-” I hit the red hang up button and place my phone back in my pocket. 

“Sorry,” I mutter, trying to focus on the passage he’s going to have to read.

“No it’s okay, boyfriend calls and you have to answer, right?” Wow. He really doesn’t miss a beat. So he  _ is  _ mad then. At what? Me? What have I done? 

“He’s not my boyfriend,” is all I say. It’s really all I  _ can  _ say because I don’t understand what he’s so pissed about. 

“Whatever,” he scoffs, pulling something out of his pocket. It’s a mints container, the ones that you have to open vertically. It’s a deep red and I hear the pop of tin opening as he flips the top. There’s no mints. I don’t know why I’m so surprised to see the small and very tightly rolled cigarettes. Wait no- they’re not cigarettes I realize as I inhale the bitter smell. It’s weed. Suddenly I’m not here with Eren, I’m back home with my dad, fingers numb as I’m forced to help him roll the multiple packs of cannabis. Sometimes he’d smoke it all in a few days, other times he’d sell it for money he’d just waste on drinks. It was a constant smell in the house, it infested everything. My clothes, backpack, books all of it had the pungent aroma to the point that I had forgotten it even existed. It wasn’t until Jean had pulled me aside one day, asking if I was taking drugs or smoking that I had accidentally confessed it was my dads. He’d kept my secret and even let me use some of his moms fancy detergent to wash my clothes when I’d come over. 

“Put that away,” I hiss abruptly, surprising myself at the sharp tone in my voice. Eren’s surprised too, momentarily, eyes flicking upwards to mine before he sneers.

“It’s my house, I can smoke whatever I want,”

“I’m leaving,” it comes out quicker than I meant it to as I stand up. Maybe Jean’s right, this is too much for me to do. I mean, what did I expect? That we’d suddenly become best friends again? Deep down I was hoping that could happen, but obviously it’s not going to. 

“You don’t even have a ride,” I can hear him get up as well, the chair scraping against the floor. 

“I’ll call Jean for a ride,” 

“Of course,” he retorts. I ignore him, nearing the door. He left it cracked slightly less than I did, only a sliver of the hallway visible. My fingers brush the cool knob and I get ready to grasp it but am quickly stopped. The door slams in front of me, as if I was the one that closed it. I glimpse a tan arm and follow its length until I see Eren’s palm pressed against the wood a few feet above me. My heart fills my ears as I hear it’s loud pounding. Stepping backwards slowly, I wonder just how angry he is. I yelp as my back hits a hard surface and I round my body off of it, regarding a very acrimonious looking Eren. 

“What’s your problem?” He says roughly, his eyes flashing down at me.

“M-my problem? What’s  _ your  _ problem?” I shout back, anger getting the best of me. “You don’t see me talking about you and Mikasa! So why-”

“What  _ about  _ me and Mikasa?” he asks eerily. 

“About you guys dating and you cheating on her and stuff,” I respond lamely, the anger I have slowly dissipating. 

“We’re not even dating,” rolling his eyes and placing his other hand near my head, leans forward slightly. “Why do you care?” his face is closer now, to the point where if I really concentrate I can feel his faint breath on my face. My head feels like it’s floating as I wonder if it’s just my imagination or if Eren really _ is _ leaning closer with each inhale. 

“W-we’ll finish this tomorrow,” I laugh nervously, fumbling behind me for the doorknob. I find it and pull it open with as much strength as I can while Eren blinks sluggishly- as if he’s waking up from a dream before he moves himself off the wall. My mind’s racing as I calmly walk down the hallway, forcing myself not to run in case he’s watching. I reach the staircase and break into a sprint down the stairs, holding onto the rail so I don’t fall. I reach the foyer quickly and rip the front door open but not before seeing my bag placed underneath one of the windows. He’d taken it out for me? No- I don’t have time to think about this right now I need to hurry up and leave. 

I run down the steps, barely sparing a glance at the blonde man now sitting on one of the benches, leaving the house. 

* * *

The rap of someone's knuckles against metal wakes me up. I remove my cheek from my locker door and give the very fuzzy person a dirty look. 

“Don’t look at me like that,”Historia laughs, twisting her lock and putting in her combination. I rub my eyes and slap my face, not even noticing I had fallen asleep. 

“Rough night?” she inquiries, placing her lunch on one of her shelves. It had been a rough night. Not only had I stayed up all night wondering if Eren had possibly been trying to kiss me, I tossed and turned over the possibility that maybe I hadn’t minded if he had. Which was stupid of course, because I hate him for many reasons. He’s arrogant and annoying and disrespectful and doesn’t know how to sit still and be nice and- sure maybe I’m attracted to him  _ physically,  _ but that doesn’t mean I like him or ever will. 

“You could say that,” is all I reply with. I grab my history things out of my locker, my stomach twisting painfully at the thought of seeing him again. 

“How did yesterday go?” 

“Don’t even ask,” I groan, leaning my back against my closed locker. I hear her laugh faintly before she closes hers as well and faces me. I hear Sasha and Connie before I see them, their laughs and shouts filling the hallway as they run towards us. It’s been tradition since last year to meet in front of Historias locker. Since we got lockers together this year, we all meet each other at the same place before, after, and during school. Historia and I move as we let them crouch down to put in their combinations. 

“Is Jean here yet?” Connie asks as he shoves his backpack inside. 

“He’s running late,” I answer, glancing down the hallway and towards the double doors. 

“How was your tutoring session?” Sasha asks me. I groan in response and she laughs, understanding my answer. The warning bell rings, meaning we all have five minutes to make it to class before we’ll be marked late. I remove myself from the metal supporting my back and tap my foot anxiously. 

“I have to head to class, it’s all the way upstairs and down the hall,” I explain even though they already know. Historia nods and checks her phone. “Sasha and I have to go too or Mr. Ackerman will write us up like last time,” she complains, reaching down to tug at Sasha's ponytail, signaling their departure.

“I’ll tell Jean you said hi!” Connie calls after us as we go down separate hallways. I’m growing more nervous as I go each step higher to the next floor. Are we just going to pretend yesterday didn’t happen? That’s probably best for the sake of his education. Before I know it I’m outside Mr. Smith's room, clutching my things tightly before walking in. I keep my head down, I don’t even want to know if Eren is here yet- it’s unlikely since he’s never on time but I don't want to take any chances. I make it to my desk easily and nearly sigh out of relief. The next bell rings out and Eren still isn’t in class. That’s fine, it’s not like he hasn’t skipped a class before or come in unannounced. I sit on edge all class and when Mr. Smith motions for me to come to his desk afterwards I’m a mess.

“I just wanted to give you this copy of the teachers lesson plan,” he hands me a thick notebook. “I trust you won’t use it to cheat on future tests, but only to assist with Mr. Yeagers tutoring sessions,” I nod vigorously, the thought of using it to cheat hadn’t even crossed my mind but I know I won’t use it in that way. 

Once he dismisses me I walk out into the crowded hallway, glad I’ll be able to see Jean and the others at my locker before my next class. I must be the first person here, the usually crowded spot deserted as I put my things away and grab my stuff for math. It’s like that until lunch, everytime I reach our lockers, no one’s there. 

I’m one of the last to reach our table and when I do, I’m ready to ask a load of questions but the words quickly die out after noticing Jean. Sporting a busted lip and slightly green eye he looks at me guiltily. 

“What happened to you?” I make my way to his side of the table sitting next to him as I take his face in my hands. He winces as I gently touch his eye. 

“The idiot got into a fight,” Connie replies, glaring at him. “ _ Without  _ me,” I give Connie a look, at his obvious distaste at the wrong thing. 

“He won’t tell us what he did,” Historia says, both her and Sasha worriedly glancing at him. 

“What’d you do?” I’m starting to get a bad feeling about this, usually he’d brag about getting into a fight or say the other person looked worse than he did. He looks away from me, glancing to the floor.

“You know how you called me yesterday to pick you up?” He starts. After I’d run a few blocks I realized there was no way I was going to be able to make it all the way home. Considering that fact I had no idea where I was, and that I’d already had to use my inhaler  _ twice,  _ I realized Jean was the best option. I nod, waiting for him to continue. 

“Well you hadn’t told me why you needed me to get you,” that was true, if I  _ had  _ he would’ve done something stupid like drive back to the house and throw some insults at Eren. “So I figured Eren had done something,” I drop my hands from his face, realizing where this is going. “I saw him this morning in the front and I swear I hadn’t meant to start anything-”

“Really Jean?” I shouldve just walked home or called an uber. I should have known this would happen. Jean has a problem with being extremely overprotective of his friends, which isn’t always such a bad thing, but there were times like these that I cursed him for it. 

“You left the session early?” Sasha asks and I glance at her and Historia before turning back to Jean. 

“Where is he?” 

He stares at me blankly for a second before giving me an incredulous look. 

“He’s in the office for in-house, just like I am. They let me leave to get lunch but that was it-” I get up before he finishes his sentence. Throwing my bag over my shoulder I leave the lunch room before they can say anything else and make my way to the office. The school building is large, and there are many different offices for many different purposes. Luckily, Jean  _ and  _ Connie have been in-housed enough times for me to know where to go. I open the heavy door as quickly as I can, walking down the narrow hallway. It’s silent, most likely no teachers or facility are here at the moment, probably taking their lunch right now as well. There are chairs lining the walls, only a few kids sitting in each. One is sitting with her body taking up two chairs as she lays down, her blonde hair obscuring her face from my view. The other is a tall man, also blonde, worriedly looking at the door I just walked into. I turn the corner, passing more empty chairs before turning one more left, noticing Erens tall frame bent over his lap as he sits. Is he sleeping? I hesitantly reach out a hand, nudging his shoulder. It’s hard underneath my shoulder and I feel my face turn hot as I notice. He jolts awake, head snapping up and almost scaring me enough to shout. He doesn’t look as bad as Jean, only having a cut on his eyebrow and bruise on his jaw. The fact that he got away so easily and Jean didn’t makes me infuriated but I don’t show it, I need to remember what I’m here for. 

“What do you want?” he dryly asks, tugging at one of his hoodie strings mindlessly. 

“I wanted to say sorry,” I sit in the chair facing him, tapping my leg nervously against the floor. “For leaving like that yesterday and for Jean hurting you. I hadn’t even told him about anything that happene-”

“What do you mean?” his voice is rough, like he’s irritated that I’m even speaking with him. “What do you think happened?”

“Huh?” Did I misread what he was trying to do? 

“Nothing happened yesterday.” he says brusquely, not making eye contact with me. Oh. I don’t expect the pain that comes with him saying that, it’s only a slight hurt, a slight dull that I feel as I take in his words. Of course I misread it, why would he ever do such a thing? We barely even know each other anymore, friendship is out of the question. So is kissing. 

“I just came to apologize,” I say quietly, grabbing my bag and standing up again to leave. He doesn’t stop me as I make my way back down the hallway, my eyes feeling hot. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually like sports and I've played some before but I have no knowledge on lacrosse ?? so why I chose that as Erens sport makes no sense to me but I'm gonna try and watch a game soon so I can understand it better haha anyways tysm for reading ily all <33


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the next chapter :)) Ty to everyone who leaves comments and kudos it makes my day! also, I love interacting w you guys so don't be afraid to ask questions or anything !!

No. No way. Maybe if I pretend I never saw it, I won’t have to reply. One minute I’m sitting in study hall, flipping through Silence of the Lambs while also simultaneously thinking about if I’m going to order a new shake at Marias since it’s Friday, and the next my phone is lighting up with an instagram notification. I often get different notifications throughout the day. We have a group chat on messages and one on instagram that’s often being used even if we’re at the same school, so it’s normal for me to see different texts throughout the day. But when I’d opened my unread messages, I realized it was from a user I didn’t even follow. One look at their page and I knew it was Eren. 

I reread the message again, my throat dry. It read, ‘ _ meet me after skool @ sports field’.  _ What did that even mean? I mean obviously, I need to meet him at the field but for what? After he practically told me I’m delusional yesterday, I figured we wouldn’t be doing a tutoring session for a while. And why did he spell school like that? No wonder he’s failing a class that’s backbone is writing and literature. 

“What are you looking at?” Jean's voice is near my ear and I flinch back, heart pounding loudly as I click my phone off.

“I thought you were sleeping,” I laugh nervously, scratching the back of my neck. Despite the fact that this is our only class together, he’s usually pretty tired from having physical education the period before. I don’t mind, it’s not like we don’t spend most of our time together anyways.

“No, I haven’t been sleeping that well recently,” he mutters, rubbing his face tiredly. Now that he mentions it, I notice the bags under his eyes. His left eye is still green, turning a slight yellow, but I can see the exhaustion in them. 

“What’s wrong?” I place my cheek on my hand, waiting for him to reply.

“How do you know when it’s the right time?” he looks down at the table as he says it, picking at his sleeve.

“For what?”

“You know,” 

“I actually don’t,” I tell him honestly. If this is a relationship question I’m not sure I’m the best person to ask.

“To take the next step, you know. I mean Historia and Ymir took it within their first month being together but-”

“Wait a second-” if he’s asking what I think he’s asking I really don’t know why he’s coming to me for advice. “Are you talking about sleeping together?”

“Obviously,” he groans, placing his face over his hands. The tips of his ears are turning pink which means he actually  _ is  _ embarrassed. 

“I have no experience in that-”

“I  _ know _ . I’m not asking because you’re a pro, I’m asking because you’re my best friend and I’d rather die than talk to anyone else about this,” When he says it like that, it makes more sense. I’ve never dated all of high school, never really wanted to either. School has always been hard, even if I am able to do it correctly. Minus my first kiss- which Jean and I shared out of curiosity- I’m pretty much clueless in the physical aspects of a relationship along with the romantic ones.

“Well, I think it’s up to you and Marco. You both have to be ready. I don’t think there’s a certain time you’re supposed to do it,”

“How am I supposed to bring this up to him?” It’s strange to see Jean worry so much, he’s a stubborn person and doesn’t often like to show much emotion unless he’s angry or in a lot of distress. 

“I think it’s best just to ask him?” I hope I’m giving him good advice because I genuinely don’t know how I would react in a situation like that. Once you love someone it should be easy to talk about anything, right? 

“You’re probably right,” he nods to himself. The bell rings loudly and the sound of zippers and scraping chairs fill the room. 

“Are you going to ask him today?” We shove our things in our bags and make our way out of the room.

“Should I? Have I waited too long?” 

“You don’t have to if you aren’t ready, you know,” 

He nods, chewing on his lip. He seems to be deep in thought so I keep quiet as we walk down the stairs, giving him time to think. 

“There you guys are!” Connie exclaims, reaching to clap Jean on the back. He doesn’t even react, worriedly searching the halls. Probably for Marco. “Why the long face?” Connie asks seriously, watching Jean's expression and holding on to the strap of his satchel tightly. They’d planned on having matching backpacks for senior year. What they didn’t plan for was procrastinating all summer until the weekend before school, where the only backpacks left were the ugly neon ones, and satchels. At first they’d been upset at the options and then realized they might as well get the tote bags. Jean had a light blue one while Connie had an army green one. He looks to me for an answer, but I’m not sure Jean would want this news to be shared with the rest of the group. I shrug and open my locker.

Now, being face to face with my history textbook and notes I remember the text Eren sent me. My stomach turns anxiously. Should I actually go? I don’t want to, but this isn’t about me. This is about Eren being able to pass school. I sigh and shove them into my bag before closing it and changing my mind. 

“Did you hear Floch is back?” Historia says as a way of greeting, grabbing her empty lunch bag out of her locker. 

“Has it been a week already?” Sasha groans from below her, placing all of her things on her shelf. Floch is not a friend of ours, he’d spent most of sophomore year bullying us. Not only that, but apparently he’s a new friend of Erens. Not that I cared or anything, he could be friends with anyone he wanted it didn’t matter to me. Floch had been suspended for a week after bringing drugs on property. I’m not sure how he got caught, considering the fact that Ymir sells during school hours too and hasn’t been caught- unless that’s why she’s on probation which is unlikely. 

“I heard they’re benching him for a few days though,” Connie quipps from behind me. 

“What sport does he play?” Historia turns to close her locker. 

“No idea,”

“Oh! Did you ever figure out if Eren actually plays golf or not?” Sasha asks me excitedly, giving Historia a side eye. I’d completely forgotten about the bet they’d made on what sport he played. 

“Yeah, he plays lacrosse-”

“Ha! Told you!” 

“You didn’t tell me anything!”

“Yeah, I did. I told you he didn’t play golf and  _ you- _ ”

I pull out my phone, relieved there aren’t any new texts displayed. I wonder if I can manage to get away from the group without any questions being asked. I know it’s impossible, but maybe with them all distracted? I start to slip away when a hand grabs my elbow. 

“Are you going to tell me what’s going on with Jean?” Connie raises an eyebrow. Okay so I  _ won’t  _ be able to leave without them noticing. 

“He’s just worried about something,” I don’t want to go into too much detail and betray Jean's trust and I think Connie understands that because something in his eyes softens. 

“Okay,” he tells me, letting go of my arm. 

“Are we going to meet at the normal spot?” Historia doesn’t look up from her phone but asks regardless. This isn’t good. If we all meet up there it’ll be impossible for me to leave. I’ll just have to tell them. 

“About that-” I begin, but stop as Jean joins us again, fingers intertwined with Marcos. 

“You guys ready?” he asks cheerfully, gone is the worried boy I saw a few minutes ago. We begin walking down the hall, the large crowd of students dissipating as they start to leave as well. It’s too loud for me to be able to speak and be heard so I decide to wait until we get towards the parking lot. Once we step outside I nervously make my way towards the front of the group. 

“And then Jean took the shot and made it in with like, three seconds left-” I can hear Connie say animatedly.

“There were still five minutes, idiot,” Jean laughs and so does Marco, looking at him fondly. 

Sasha’s arm is around Connie's shoulder as she listens in, eyes flicking between the two of them as they talk. 

“Um guys?” My voice is small but they somehow hear me anyway. 

“What’s up?” Jean asks, and they all look at me. “Why do you look so scared?”

“I’m not scared- I just- I’m not going to go with you guys to Marias,” it comes out in a rush and I myself can barely make out the words but I know they can by their reactions. Sasha slumps against Connie and groans while he looks at me perplexedly. Historia looks up from the text she’s sending and glances towards Jean who’s staring at me blankly. 

“Why not?”

“I’m meeting someone so-”

“Who?” Historia grabs my hands excitedly. “Is it a girl?” I shake my head. “A guy, then?” her eyes widen as I hesitate for a second because,  _ yes _ I am meeting a guy but not in the way she’s hoping. 

“No way! Who is it?” 

“Yeah why didn’t you tell us?” Sasha chimes in, coming to me as well. 

“Is he cute at least?” Connie adds from Sashas side. Is Eren cute? I don’t think that’s the word that really describes him. He’s extremely attractive, but not in a cutesy way, more like in an intimidating way? Why am I thinking about this?

“Oh my god he is! You’re blushing!” I slap my hands to my cheeks and groan as they cheer. Jean still hasn’t said anything which is strange, he’d usually be the first person to accuse me of having a crush- not that I have one.

“I’m not meeting him like that,” I mutter and look down at my shoes. I sound disappointed to my own ears. A small part of me wonders what it would be like if I actually was meeting him in that way. Would I be excited? Would  _ he  _ be excited? 

I think it dawns on them at the same time because they get silent quickly. Historias face drops into something that might be pity, but I look away before I can fully understand it. 

“We’ll walk you,” it’s the first time Jeans said anything since we walked out of the building. 

“No that’s okay-” I am grateful he always likes to stick around and help me, but I don’t want Eren to think I told my whole friend group about it as if he just asked to meet up for fun. 

“Let’s go!” Connie cheers, wrapping his arms around Historia and Sasha's shoulders. 

“I’ve always wanted to see a lacrosse game,” Sasha says thoughtfully. 

“Wait I don’t think-”

“Shut up,” Jean says, pulling me to his side. I sigh as we begin walking away from the parking lot.

* * *

The field is large, but with the tall players running laps on it, it seems smaller. We stand at the very edge where the grass begins, watching as a coach yells not so encouraging things to the team. 

“No way,” I groan, watching as Floch walks from the opposite side towards the bench. The rumors were true then, he really is done with his suspension. Luckily, I have no classes with him regardless, so I thought I wouldn’t have to see him again. Obviously not because there he is, only a few couple feet away, sitting down and sipping from a water bottle as he laughs and makes remarks to his teammates as they run past him. A shrill whistle is blown and everyone breaks formation and moves to the bench. Floch claps them on the back and gets up, moving to a specific player- and there’s Eren. His hair’s pulled back from his face in a messy bun, his black shirt clinging to his frame as he grabs his collar to wipe his face. My breath stutters as I watch, and I pray no one can hear it. He pulls out his phone and glances at it for a second before putting it away as if disappointed. His expression quickly disappears once Floch hands him a new cup of water and he takes it gratefully before downing it in one sip. 

“Floch is on the team?” I hear Marco ask. I wring my hands together, my stomach doing somersaults as I realize I’m gonna have to walk over there  _ alone _ . 

“Well if  _ he  _ can play, I’d most definitely be a pro,” Connie snorts from my side. 

“Okay, you guys wait here,” Jean tells the rest of the group before grabbing my shoulder. I lift my head to look at him, confused. 

“Wait I want to go too-!” Connie groans.

“I actually  _ know  _ Eren so  _ I  _ should be the one going-” Historia begins before being cut off by Sasha.

“I haven’t gotten to see them use the sticks yet-”

“I’m taking him- you guys stay here,” He repeats again, a little bit more forcefully this time. He pulls me forward and we begin towards the group. With every step I grow more anxious, what if he just ignores me the whole time I’m there and I look like an idiot? He was the one who told me to come here so hopefully that’s not the case but- oh god what if he’s still mad about yesterday? What if he thinks I’m an idiot for thinking anything happened the other day? 

“Can you stop worrying?” 

“I’m  _ not _ ,” I lie, keeping my gaze on my moving shoes. Jean steers us to a stop, standing in front of me. 

“What’s up with you?” 

“There’s nothing wrong I don’t know what you mean-”

“Stop. You’ve been acting weird ever since you started ‘tutoring’ him,” he puts his fingers up in quotation as he waits for me to respond.

“I haven’t been acting weird,” I reply weakly. 

“You have. And then Historia’s accusing you of having a crush? And you aren’t even denying it?”

“Oh my god I don’t like him- I  _ have  _ to do this it wasn’t a choice,”

“Cut the bullshit Armin. You’re the smartest person I know, but when it comes to him you act stupid,” he’s getting slightly worked up now, waving his hands around with his words. 

“If I’m so stupid why are you even bothering with this?” I come back, irritation rising in me.

“This is why I didn’t want you to do this-” he sighs, running a hand over his face.

“Like I’ve already told you before-  _ it wasn’t a choice _ -”

“Trouble in paradise?” We both turn in usion as Floch comes up to us, a smirk on his face. It takes me longer than it should to realize Erens in tow, his eyes running over me. I look away quickly, forcing myself to breathe properly. 

“The hell do you want?” Jean spits, shifting himself so I’m blocked from their view. 

“Nothin’ I just wanted to check out Erens tutor but if I knew he was gonna be fighting with his boy toy I would’ve come back later-”

Jean moves so fast I barely see it and grabs Floch by his collar, lifting him a few inches from the ground. “You do not want to fuck with me right now pal,” Floch laughs loudly at his words and raises his hands in mock surrender. 

“Knock it off,” I mutter, hitting his side, willing him  _ not  _ to make a scene right now. Jean glances at me for a few seconds, seemingly arguing with himself over something before dropping him down with a thump and pushing him again for good measure. 

“You got my text?” Eren steps around Floch, coming up to me. He puts his hands in his pockets, rocking back on his heels impatiently. 

“Yeah,” I answer quietly. I lift my eyes up slowly, steeling myself for his gaze. He’s already watching me, and I can feel the taut wire begin to form between us, trying to pull me forward. 

“Jean!” I snap out of it reluctantly, turning to see Connie sprinting towards us. Once he reaches where we stand he places his hands on his knees and catches his breath for a second. He glances towards Eren for a second then back to me and back to him and so forth for what seems like forever.

“What’s up?” Jean says from where he has Floch in a chokehold. 

“Marco’s not feeling so good so he’s in the car waiti-”

“What’s wrong?” He removes himself from Floch immediately, walking to Connie. 

“Nothing serious he’s just feeling faint so we-”

“What the hell are you doing standing here then? Let’s go,” He begins to walk off, and I feel my stomach drop because I’m going to have to stay here for who knows how long and-

“Armin, call me afterwards and I’ll come get you, kay?” 

“Don’t bother,” Eren cuts in, an irritated look on his face again.

“I don’t have time for your shit- Armin?” I nod wordlessly and watch as they leave. 

“He’s something else,” Floch laughs quietly.

“He has a boyfriend,” I retort. I get flipped off in return. 

“Yeager, Forster! Get over here!” the coach's loud voice carries to us. 

“Wait here,” Eren mutters before they jog to the team. 

The field is set up with a goal on each side, white painted on the grass to outline where they play. I hear the coach shouting something, most likely their gameplay before clapping loudly. The various players grab their gear and move to their positions. I don’t see Floch or Eren anywhere and wonder where they’d play. Eren’s one of the tallest players, but does height really matter in this game? 

“Hey,” Eren sidels up next to me, watching his teammates get ready to play.

“You aren’t playing?” He had his stick and sports bag last time I saw him, what changed between then? Was it because of the fight between him and Jean?

“Mr. Smith talked to my coach about my grades,” he explains. “I’m borderline failing so I’ll have to be benched,”

“Oh,” I respond, feeling a little disappointed I won’t be able to see him play. 

“Yeah but I’m one of the best players on the team,” he doesn’t say it in a haughty way, but more like he’s just stating a fact. “So coach is gonna let me play tomorrow's second half game if I study during the first half,” I nod my head. It sounds fair, and it’s definitely better than skipping the game entirely. I don’t have any worksheets for him though. Maybe I can assign a chapter for him to read? 

“So do you think you can come?” I glance at him, wondering if I’m missing something.

“To what?” he smiles slightly before answering in an obvious tone.

“The game,” The game? As in the game he just mentioned? I gape at him for a second before laughing at the thought. He watches me with a small smirk and I wonder in the back of my mind why he does that. 

“You want me to come to your game?” I ask, just to make sure I’m not making stuff up. 

“Yup, you can tutor me the first half so I can play,” 

Right. This would be for his benefit, it’s not like he actually wants me to come watch. I’m sure I’ll be able to leave after I’m done helping him study- not like I had plans anyways but he doesn’t need to know that. 

“Yeah, okay,” I tell him, and he visibly relaxes for a second, before looking at the scrimagge happening. 

“C’mon Braun! You gonna let Hoover take the ball like that?!”

“No coach!” the tall blond responds nervously and I realize it’s the same guy who was sitting in the office yesterday. He grips his stick tightly, running after the guy- Hoover?- who took the ball. Hoover laughs as Braun knocks into him, knocking the ball out of his basket. He has it now, and turns to run towards his goal. Eren and I stand a few feet behind it, giving us a good view of the play. He doesn’t see Hoover come up behind him, his stick low as he puts his foot out just barely. Braun is running too fast to stop as he makes out the cleet in front of him. It’s like it happens in slow motion- one minute he’s upright with the ball in his basket, nearing the goal and the next he’s falling face down, still throwing the ball to take a shot. He’s off by a lot- in fact it’s not even at reach of the net and it’s flying through the air- faster than I would’ve thought possible. I barely hear Eren’s loud curse before I’m plowed into swiftly, the air getting knocked out of my lungs. 

My head thumps against the grass  _ hard _ , and I hear the roaring pounding spread through my head to my ears. There’s a heavy weight on my chest suffocating me. I can’t breathe, air barely flowing through my lungs and then I really c _ an’t  _ breathe and I’m panicking- it’s flowing through my body rapidly to the point where I want to cry and- the weight lifts up quickly and I turn onto my side, coughing noisily as I inhale deeply, my anxiety still high. I count the blades of grass in front of me, trying to steady my thundering heart. 

“-That’s why I told you to always pay attention, idiot!” 

“I’m sorry captain, Bertolt tripped me- that’s a foul by the way!”

“Is not,” 

Their voices are loud and I can barely make out whose voice belongs to who. 

“You okay?” Eren crouches down besides me, grabbing my wrist gently to pull me up to a sitting position. I try to nod, but my head feels unbearingly heavy and I feel the need to lay down again. He places his hand to my forehead, as if he’s checking my temperature. 

“Well you don’t have a fever so, that’s good right?” I’m not sure who he’s asking but I hear the two boys agree with him. 

“Why would I have a fever?” I manage, moving to stand up completely. He lets me use his arm as leverage and I try not to think of the very small distance between us. 

“I’m not sure but those are always bad so it’s good you don’t have one,” he replies steadily and I let out a quiet laugh.

“You okay son?” the coach comes up to me, the other players creating a crowd behind him. I nod again, for what seems like the millionth time.

“Thank god for Eren knocking you outta the way or else someone would’ve lost a tooth,” he chuckles heartily, and everyone else joins him. I peer at Eren perplexedly, and he just stares at me wordlessly. He moved me out of the way? Why? I mean, I guess it would be difficult to pass a class without a tutor so it makes sense. 

“Sorry for crushing you,” he mumbles quietly, saying it near my ear so it’s not drowned out by the laughs of his teammates. I ignore the shiver that travels down my spine as I take in his words. 

“It’s fine,” I answer, matching his gaze. He stares at me openly, looking into both of my eyes before slowly trailing them down my face. I hold my breath, knowing I’m not imagining it this time as his eyes rest on my lips. 

“This is why we need you on the team,” the blonde guy begins, trailing off as he looks at how close we are. I blink, turning to look at Braun, my head feeling like it's floating because of the adrenaline I just felt. I want to blame all of it on the fall, but I know I’d be lying to myself. Eren stands up to his full height again, scoffing. 

“You shouldn’t have to need me on the team to be good,” I watch from the corner of my eye as he tries to regain his cool posture. My head swims with confusions as I realize what just happened- or rather what didn’t happen. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I listen to music a lot and it gives me creativity for certain scenes/characters and the songs Right Here by Chase Atlantic and Church by Chase Atlantic inspired me to write the Eren I do and will help me w future scenes so if you want to listen to them you should :)) I love u all ty for reading <333


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